Pretty Boys
by MirrorKisses
Summary: Marco's life sucks. He's paranoid. He's caffiene addicted. He's scared as hell of the boy hiding in his closet and his imaginary brother. Spinner's goa problem. He's afaraid of the goverment and Marco's paranoia. Slash


**Pretty Boys**

**Summary: Marco's life sucks. He's paranoid. He's caffiene addicted. He's scared as hell of the boy hiding in his closet and his imaginary brother**

* * *

**It's sad. It's funny. It's desperate. Review please.**

* * *

Glitter fell all around me as I titled my head back to get a better look of the club itself. 2 Years ago this would've just been a dream or a drunken nightmare. I grabbed him by his hand and lead him to the dance floor, this was no dream. This was reality; this is who I am…

Initially, in the beginning I was a wimp at the whole school chain. I hid among the social shadows and dwelled in the crowds, I wished I could be like Paige and Hazel, minus the bra that is. Their personalities may have made me physically sick but they were popular, they shined. I wanted that. I'd do anything for it.

Anything

But I don't want to just jump into the story of how I practically sold my soul to get such social acclaim, but before I start I'll ask you this, do you know what a Pet Boy is? Or a Dance Whore? You don't? Well, keep those names in mind; you're going to need them. Okay, where to begin? I guess it would be where it all began, the main downfall before my rise…April 22.

* * *

I was sitting down at the art table drawing on my arms with a milky pen when Spinner sat down next to me. He smelled like wet cheese and butter but I didn't dare say anything to provoke him, we were on thin ice as it was thanks to the whole "Paige and Dean" scenario that had been going around. Of course I have nothing to do with that, but I'm…-I was everybody's punching bag when it came to emotions. I was almost done with my little figure of a rainbow and a unicorn when I got hit in the head with a crumpled piece of construction paper. I opened it up to see Spinner's barely legible writing and scanned it quickly, Mrs. Leapermen, the new art teacher, hated me. She didn't like short adorable little Debbie kids I guess. Anyway the note read as this:

**We need to talk**

I frowned; he wanted to talk to me? Why? I mean, I really didn't feel like being beaten up today to get some of his energy out so what was the problem? I tried to put the best thing I could on the paper so…

**What's the problem?**

Was written down in glitter purple gel milky pen and then delicately thrown in his direction. He caught it with ease and rolled his eyes. I got hit in the head with the paper again and read it:

**Not now, not here.**

I was about to write why when Mrs. Leapermen came up and snatched the paper from my hands." Mr. Del Rossi!" She yelled out, making me shrivel up inside because I am pitiful," Detention". She grinned at me darkly as I groaned and Spinner banged his head onto the desk in desperation to get attention again. I went back to filling my unicorn's horn with some red glittery ink and mumbled to myself lowly.

I was a sad, sad shame to gay boys everywhere.

When the bell rang I staid in my seat and closed my eyes in tiredness and loneliness and just longed for someone to come and save me from this dreary horror show that I lived everyday. I hated art class, I'm sure you know that now. Ellie sat down next to me and smiled," What did you do, blow the teacher?"

"She's a girl" I said quietly.

"So…?"

"Ellie…?"

"I'd do her…"

"Ellie!"

"What?" She asked innocently, gingerly snapping her rubber bands. They were a cheery color red today." Awww, poor little Debbie, what's the matter?"

I shrugged and went back to my doodles again," I dunno. I'm just-"

Her cell phone rang as I began to spill my heart out, I could've told her about how I tried to jump out a window twice last night in my sleep or the fact that I think that there's someone inside my closet hiding besides me at my house but she wouldn't know because she never had time for me anymore. Now it was all about Sean. Sean this. Sean that. Sean likes ham; Sean likes Oprah, Sean, Sean, Sean!

But I'm not bitter.

And guess who it was on the phone? Sean.

I banged my head onto the desk just to see how it would feel and felt a burning sensation tingle in my temples before exploding all over my head. I did it again for good measure, just to make sure that my head really, really hurt and then closed my eyes. When I woke up it was around 2:45 and I had missed the rest of my classes. The worst part was that I smudged my glittery red unicorn horn.

Scratch that, I hate Mondays and Art Class.

And a matter of fact, I hate Sean too. And Mrs. Leapermen.

I hate a lot of things.

* * *


End file.
